There and Back Again
by Yggdrasil'sRoots
Summary: Stiles and Derek end up reading the Hobbit. Again. Together.


_**Special Christmas present fic for my boo, smileyfacebabe, cos she is awesome and I love her. **_

_**Disclaimer: I still don't own teen wolf. Sigh. **_

Stiles curls up in the armchair in Derek's new apartment, cheerfully wriggling his toes in his very christmassy socks, which are awesome, if he does say so himself.

Which he does. Because they are.

Oh come on, they have reindeer on.

_Reindeer._

He flicks the page of his book over, engrossed in Bilbo's journey into Mirkwood.

"Evil freaking spiders." He mutters.

"Why are spiders evil?" Derek asks, padding out barefoot from the bathroom.

"Because they're spiders. Dude, you saw the film with me, those things are creepy. Spiders that can talk? Nope. Especially when they speak black speech. Nasty ass, leggy, creepy things." Stiles doesn't look up from the battered, well-loved copy of the Hobbit, sitting on his lap.

Derek scoffs, muttering under his breath.

_In elvish._

_Elvish._

Stiles jumps up from the chair and follows Derek to his kitchen.

"Dude. I still can't believe you can speak elvish." He groans, swiping the coffee Derek has just made from under the wolf's nose.

"So can you." Derek protests, glaring at him, then sighing and grabbing another mug and filling it.

"Yeah but I'm a geeky nerd boy. You are a scowly sourwolfy closet dork." He prods Derek in the ribs, barely clocking the fact that Derek is in a towel and nothing else. Then he does.

_Towel. Nakedness. Derek._

"Dude. Where the heck are your clothes?" Stiles ignores the feel of Derek's bare skin under his finger tip, and instead forcefully immerses himself back in his book, leaning against the counter.

"I am not a closet dork." Derek grumbles, not answering the question. He leans against the counter and sips his coffee.

"Who was Thorin's grandpappy?"

"Thror." Derek immediately says.

"Dork." Stiles grins into the rim of his stolen coffee. Derek glares, then peers over Stiles shoulder, which promptly breaks out into shivers at the feel of Derek's hot breath.

They read on companiable silence, past Mirkwood and Laketown and Bard's awesomeness, until the dwarves and their burglar reach the lonely mountain.

Stiles glances up to see the time and is shocked to see it has been a few hours, and Derek is slumped lazily against his back, still in nothing but a towel, and radiating heat pleasantly against him. He shifts nervously.

"What?" Derek mutters into his shoulder.

"I just realised how naked you are right now." Stiles blurts out without thinking. Derek stiffens, and Stiles curses his non existent filter.

"It's just skin." Derek grumbles, and the warmth disappears. Stiles chews his lip moodily as Derek clatters around in his room. He returns, wearing a pair of jeans that frame his ass gloriously, and a tight henley, sleeves pushed up to his elbows.

Stiles sighs as Derek flops onto his squishy couch. The man in question raises an eyebrow in return.

"What? I'm not fluent in eyebrow, dude. " Stiles dog ears the corner of his page.

"We were reading. Come here. Or I'll rip your throat out."

"With your teeth, I know. Jesus, Sourwolf." But Stiles grins and hurls himself clumsily down next to the smirking man.

Who promptly grabs him around the waist and pulls him into his chest, settling down as if it's completely normal and not weird at all.

Trying to cover his minor freak out, Stiles re-opens the book and tries to focus.

"I don't bite, Stiles. Not unless you ask." Derek whispers in his ear. He jumps in surprise and clutches the book tight to his chest. Derek chuckles throatily in his ear, and Stiles' eyes slide shut without his permission. Reaching around him, Derek opens the book and sets it on Stiles' thigh, and he settles into reading, seemingly unaware of the teenager in his lap. Stiles tries to breathe, and gradually relaxes into Derek's firm chest, reading along with Derek as Bilbo ventures down into the mountain, and talks to Smaug, and finds the Arkenstone. Eventually they are forced to stop reading, as despite the break from school, Stiles still has a curfew, and the Sheriff would murder him if he said he was spending time with a previously suspected murderer.

"He was exonerated!" Stiles says exasperated every time his dad brings this up, but the Sheriff will not be swayed from his decision. No Derek for Stiles, so they hang out in secret. The sheriff thinks he is with Scott today, even though Scott hasn't hung out with him in weeks.

Stiles stretches, unconsciously bumping his rear into Derek.

"Time to go, dude. Sorry. Dad's being weird still." He gets up. Derek traps his sleeve in his fist. Stiles peers down at him.

"What?"

"Don't know." Derek is scowling again, but this time he looks as though he is figuring something out. "I..."

"You're worrying me now, man. Talk to me." Stiles crouches down in front of Derek, staring up at him. Derek is making a face, like he is slowly realising something, an expression quite like wonder spreading across his face. Stiles' heart skips a beat, and Derek tilts his head like he is listening to something. "Sourwolf?"

"I am so slow." Derek grins and damn it, but Stiles can't help but smile in return. That wide, trouble free smile, he will never be able to resist it.

But he is massively curious.

"Slow?" Stiles prods.

"I didn't even realise."

"Realise what?" Stiles is beyond curious now. "Dude, what the hell are you talking about?"

Derek tips himself forward and kisses Stiles square on the mouth, slow, and soft, coaxing his lips to follow with gently movements. Stiles freezes for a moment, utterly shocked, but fast remembers his long buried crush on Derek and rises up on his knees to loop his arms around Derek's neck. They press together eagerly, exploring each other, taking their time to learn what the other likes.

After a while, the awkward position starts to annoy Stiles, so he straddles Derek and presses as close as possible. Derek gasps into his mouth, which is awesome, and if he can make Derek Hale make that noise then there is hope for the world. He nips at the older man's lip and for a reason he can't quite pin down(only he can because he is making out with _Derek motherfreaking Hale) _he slides a hand into Derek's thick, unruly locks, and tugs sharply.

Derek retaliates by biting his lip and then soothing it with his tongue, gripping his waist hard. Stiles makes a noise(he doesn't know what noise it is, only that it is needy and low) and huffs out a breath into Derek's mouth.

Eventually, the need for oxygen overcomes them, and they break apart, panting and with swollen lips.

"Well." Says Derek. Stiles smacks him on the shoulder abruptly. "Ow, what?"

"If you had gotten your head out of your ass, we could have been doing that for _months!" _He sighs, and squirms on Derek's lap.

"Months? You've liked me for that long?" Derek is obviously surprised, and Stiles sighs again and presses a soft, dirty kiss to Derek's mouth, then slumps against his chest and licks a bruise into Derek's neck, even though he knows it will fade by the morning.

It is worth it for the stuttering moan that Derek lets out, and the return hickey that Derek bites into the space above his collarbone.

Even if the hickey is how Stiles gets busted by his dad when Derek drives him home in his own Jeep.


End file.
